Dinner on Thursdays
by viridiansky
Summary: When Shuichi confesses to Furuya, it's in the spur of the moment - he's admittedly not really thinking much about how Furuya might react. But if he had, he might've expected at worst, a punch to the face, and at best, a kiss. What he doesn't expect is for Furuya to walk out of the room.


**A/N:**

 **This was supposed to be a shorter fic, to practice writing from Akai's perspective. But you know how things are, right? Right?**

* * *

Dinner on Thursdays

* * *

Shuichi is a little tired, perhaps a little drunk, when he stares at Furuya sitting next to him at the bar counter and decides he really doesn't care anymore.

"I like you," Shuichi says.

Furuya freezes - the glass he had been bringing to his mouth remains held in the air for a worrying amount of time. But finally, he shakes his head and sets his glass back down in a single, decisive motion.

He turns to Shuichi with a calm expression and says firmly - as if there were no room for disagreement - "No, you don't."

Then, as naturally as anything, he gets up and leaves the bar.

Shuichi is too taken aback to stop him.

* * *

Shuichi supposes he can't entirely blame Furuya for finding it so unbelievable. He can't exactly pinpoint when it happened himself.

Going back six months, he doesn't think much about Furuya. Six months ago, it's a little over a year since the Organization fell, and a little under a year since he went back to America. Six months ago, he's just gotten himself assigned on a new long-term mission back in Japan, because apparently his family isn't planning to move back to England even though the danger is gone.

Six months ago, he happens to run into Furuya in the supermarket.

He doesn't look much different from when Shuichi last saw him over a year ago - he's still wearing that grey suit of his he loves so much. He also happens to be holding a shopping basket half-filled with groceries in one hand. It's late in the evening, so Shuichi supposes Furuya stopped by after work - perhaps this supermarket happens to be close to his apartment.

"...Furuya-kun," Shuichi greets after a moment of hesitation. He adjusts his grip on the shopping basket he holds.

Furuya jolts, then turns around to stare at him incredulously. "Akai?"

"It's been a while," Shuichi says mildly.

"What are you doing back in Japan, Akai Shuichi?" Furuya demands immediately. Shuichi hears Furuya click his tongue in irritation, and so Shuichi sighs.

"Work," he replies shortly.

Furuya's long since learned the truth behind Scotch's death, but that had just been enough to get Furuya to cooperate with him. In the end, they had started to be able to talk without Furuya saying something snide, but they still hadn't really been friends by the time Shuichi had to leave, and Shuichi was perfectly fine with that. He hadn't told Furuya when he left Japan, and neither had he told him when he arrived back - why would he? He had been hoping he wouldn't have to deal with the Zero department - his work this time involved working more with the metropolitan police.

It was just a spot of bad luck that he happened to run into Furuya here.

(A spot of bad luck that might turn out to be interesting.)

"Ah, I did hear something about that," Furuya says, that oh-so-familiar haughtiness slipping into his voice. "I didn't realize you were the one they sent."

"I blend in well," Shuichi says. Better than Furuya even, with his blond hair.

"Hmph." Furuya takes a step closer and leans in a little to peer at the contents of his shopping basket. As Shuichi automatically leans back, Furuya looks up at him with a smirk. "Curry, _really?_ "

Shuichi holds back another sigh. "Yes."

"Akai Shuichi, ace sniper, can't even make himself a proper meal." Furuya laughs mockingly. He leans back up and lightly steps backwards to where he was before.

"What part of curry isn't a proper meal?" asks Shuichi.

"The fact that it's the only thing you can make."

Shuichi narrows his eyes at that. "You're not the only one who can cook, Furuya-kun."

"Oh, and, meat and potatoes doesn't count as a second thing you can cook, Akai," Furuya says quickly, smiling widely.

"I can cook things other than curry and meat and potatoes," Shuichi says. He finds himself a touch irritated despite himself.

"I doubt that," Furuya says. He lifts the shopping basket he holds a little higher and waves a goodbye. He continues, "Anyways, Akai, unlike you FBI _we're_ always busy, so I'll be going. Try to keep yourself restrained in my Japan, would you?"

Furuya turns around and begins to walk away.

Shuichi should really just let it go.

He really should.

"Furuya-kun."

Pausing, Furuya looks back over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. "Yes?"

Shuichi smiles sharply. "Whatever you have in your basket right now. I'll cook you something with it."

"Oh?" Furuya says, voice lilting. He flips around, an equally sharp smile playing at his lips. "Seeing the great Akai Shuichi fail at something does sound interesting. I'm not going to tell you what I was going to make, you know. Or what ingredients I didn't need to buy."

"I'll manage."

The smile spreads completely across Furuya's face, and he lets out an amused laugh. "Will you, now?"

Shuichi meets Furuya's gaze coolly. "I will."

"So confident," Furuya says, smile not fading. "Alright, we can go to my apartment. You already know where it is, after all - I look forwards to seeing you struggle, Akai."

Shuichi doesn't actually know where Furuya lives - he never had a reason to look into it - but he doesn't feel the urge to correct Furuya's assumptions.

"Lead the way," he just says.

* * *

He fails. Miserably.

Furuya is laughing uncontrollably, bent over in two in front of him with his arms wrapped around his stomach. It's been almost a minute now since Shuichi brought out what he had made - he's starting to get a little offended.

(The whole situation's also starting to feel a little strange, because he's never seen Furuya laugh this much. He didn't even know Furuya _could_ laugh this much.)

Shuichi lets out a vaguely irritated sigh. "It's not that funny."

Furuya lets out another few chuckles before finally straightening back up, wiping a tear from his eye.

"It really is," he says. He looks at the food on the table and breaks into another small fit of laughter.

"Cooking is just following a recipe," Shuichi mutters, "If you let me look it up, it wouldn't have been a problem."

"If I let you look it up, then you wouldn't really be cooking something you knew, would you?" Furuya counters, still sounding irritatingly cheerful. "Besides, recipe or not, you should really know not to cook _chocolate_ with mackerel."

"I thought I read somewhere that you use it as a taste booster."

That sets Furuya off into laughter again. "In _curry_ , sure! Is that really all you learned how to cook?"

"I can cook fish normally," Shuichi insists. He rubs his forehead. "I just got distracted by the chocolate. It won't happen again."

"I just bought the chocolate as a snack for myself, Akai," Furuya says in amusement. "I didn't even plan to use it in a recipe."

"What?" says Shuichi, genuinely surprised. He had considered that the chocolate could be just a snack, but he dismissed the idea because… "But you hate sweet things."

Furuya looks a little taken aback. "You remember that?"

"You complained about it enough in the Organization," Shuichi says flatly. "Of course I remember."

"I… suppose." Furuya's expression is immediately wiped of its amusement, and Shuichi can't quite read it anymore. "I did my best to forget about Rye, myself, so it just came as a surprise."

All of a sudden, the atmosphere is gloomy. Shuichi shifts his weight from one foot to another.

(The terrible smell emanating from the fish on the table probably isn't helping the atmosphere.)

"...It seems I might as well just forgotten as well," says Shuichi carefully, feeling a little like he's walking through a minefield. "I suppose not liking sweets was just a part of Bourbon's character?"

"Ah, no, I still don't really like sweet things," explains Furuya, gaze far away. "But Amuro did, and I developed a taste for some chocolates."

"I see," says Shuichi, not sure what else to say.

They lapse off into an awkward silence. Shuichi is mostly just surprised it hadn't happened earlier.

"Anyways, Akai, you _are_ cleaning that up, aren't you?" Furuya says finally, gesturing towards the failed creations on the table. Shuichi feels like the mackerel's eyes are staring at him in judgement. "I'm usually not one to waste food, but I do believe that's inedible."

Shuichi grimances. "I suppose I will."

* * *

After cleaning up, he just leaves. They don't exchange contact information - neither of them even say a "See you later."

Shuichi will admit that despite the failure, it was surprisingly a bit fun spending time with Furuya. After he had stopped spewing vitriol towards him every other sentence, of course.

But it didn't really matter either way what he thought, because now and in the past, it's always been Furuya who picked the fight. So he forgets it and concentrates on his work.

It's a couple weeks later when he happens to meet Furuya again in that same supermarket, at around the same time of the day. Only this time, it's Furuya who notices him.

"Oh, Akai," a voice comes from behind him.

Shuichi turns around to see Furuya standing a few paces behind him, a hand raised in greeting. There's a picture-perfect smile on his face that he doubts is genuine.

"Hello, Furuya-kun," Shuichi says nonetheless.

Furuya skips up a little closer to look at the shopping basket he holds. After glancing inside, he asks, "Yakisoba?"

Shuichi shrugs and nods.

"I suppose that's hard for anyone to screw up," Furuya comments, the smile on his face twisting a little mockingly.

Shuichi holds back a look of exasperation and instead ignores Furuya's attempts at provoking him. It hadn't turned out so well for him last time when he had bought into the taunts. Instead, he looks inside Furuya's basket in return.

"You're making spaghetti, I see," notes Shuichi.

"I was in the mood for something light," Furuya explains, "So I'm making naporitan."

Shuichi can't help but grimace.

"What's with the expression, Akai?" demands Furuya, voice a touch annoyed. "Even I get in the mood for something a little more fast-foody sometimes."

"That's not it," Shuichi glances to the side. "It's just - naporitan is _ketchup spaghetti._ "

"Yes?" Furuya says, sounding confused.

He's spent almost a third of his life in Japan now, but sometimes he just feels like he'll never understand the country. This is one of those times.

"Back in America, even broke college students might turn their noses up at that…" he mutters.

Furuya scowls. "Have you even tried it?"

"I rather think I don't need to," Shuichi replies firmly.

"I rather think you do," Furuya says sharply, "Come with me tonight, I'll make you some."

"While I do appreciate the offer, I'll have to politely decline."

"You misunderstand me," says Furuya sweetly, "That wasn't a request. You owe me for the ingredients you wasted the other day, Akai Shuichi."

"...You like naporitan spaghetti _that_ much?" Shuichi asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but I won't accept that insult against Japanese cuisine," Furuya insists.

Shuichi sincerely doubts that naporitan spaghetti is in any way a key part of Japanese cuisine, but he doesn't express those thoughts out loud.

It wasn't as if he had anything better to do tonight.

(And it might turn out to be interesting again.)

* * *

To his mild irritation, the naporitan spaghetti that Furuya cooks turns out to be rather good. But he's not ready to change his mind on ketchup spaghetti just yet - it was _Furuya_. He suspects that Furuya could make anything taste good.

He says as much, but Furuya just grins in response and says that meant that he won. Shuichi hadn't realized that there was something to 'win' in the first place.

Still, if there really was something to 'win', Shuichi suspects he won it, because Furuya's relaxed enough that they can actually have a conversation.

Oh, sure, half of it is Furuya probing him about his work and the other half is Shuichi casually asking questions about the PSB right back, but the conversation moves along smoothly enough regardless.

It's always been times like this, when they're talking normally or when they execute a plan together flawlessly, that Shuichi thinks that they might make good friends if things were different.

But Furuya is Furuya and Shuichi is Shuichi, so at the end of the night Shuichi just leaves without making any plans to meet again.

They'll meet when they meet.

* * *

'When they meet' turns out to be in the supermarket a week later - same time, similar aisle. Once is an accident, twice is coincidence - three times is an enemy action.

Furuya must be purposefully coming to the supermarket at this time as well. Shuichi thinks they're both being a bit stupid, a bit sad. They're adults, they don't need to resort to this subterfuge.

But neither of them have ever been the type to be particularly honest with each other.

So he still doesn't ask Furuya for his contact information.

They still end up eating dinner together almost every week, always finding some excuse or another.

* * *

Furuya's sitting across from him at his dinner table when Furuya says, oh-so-casually, "You should come drinking with us tomorrow."

"With us?" Shuichi echoes.

"With the PSB," Furuya clarifies.

Shuichi blinks at him. "You're inviting a foreign agent to go drinking with the _PSB_?"

"Don't be stupid, Akai," Furuya says derisively, "It's not like you haven't before - though I'll admit that time was with the rest of your FBI crowd. But anyways, none of my subordinates are idiotic enough to let secrets slip in public. I'd welcome you to try."

The last sentence is said in a bit of a strange tone. Shuichi narrows his eyes.

"You want me to try," he states.

"Do I?" Furuya says neutrally.

Shuichi eyes Furuya with a contemplative look, but he still can't parse Furuya's expression.

He feels vaguely annoyed that he can't understand what Furuya is thinking. Then he wonders why he's feeling annoyed - this wasn't anything new.

So he just says, "Alright, I'll come."

* * *

Furuya acts normal around his subordinates, but also well, not normal.

Normal in that he acts the way Shuichi would've, should've expected of him. Not normal in that he's begun to expect something a little different from Furuya. He expects maybe a laugh or two, or perhaps a smile that's not a few shades too bright.

Shuichi's not sure when he started expecting that.

But the entire evening, Furuya's carefully kept together, and he finds he doesn't enjoy himself as much as he thought he might.

(Halfway into the evening, Shuichi gets an awfully childish urge to provoke Furuya into a fight. He dismisses it easily enough, but the thought remains.)

He can at least tell Furuya that his subordinates are as professional as Furuya himself, though. Shuichi makes a cursory attempt to pry for information, but sometimes he can barely get their names out of them.

(In fact, he feels a lot of them could do with being a little _less_ professional.)

Furuya and Shuichi live in the same area - unsurprising, considering that they frequent the same supermarket - so they end up taking the same train home.

They're sitting in an empty train compartment next to each other when Shuichi comments, "You didn't seem to smile much."

"Huh?" Furuya says, cocking his head to the side. He smiles brightly up at Shuichi. "Are your eyes doing alright, Akai? I was smiling plenty."

"That's not what I meant, Furuya-kun."

"Hmph." Furuya leans back against his seat and stares upwards. "Well, I can't really relax around my subordinates, can I?"

"Can't you?" Shuichi asks.

"I don't know how you do things over in America," Furuya begins, vaguely waving a hand around. "But here, showing weakness is generally considered a bad idea - it makes your subordinates worry."

"It's not that I don't understand that philosophy," Shuichi says, "But I wouldn't say that relaxing is showing weakness."

"Well, I would," Furuya mutters. He brings an arm up to his face and covers his eyes, looking decidedly like he wasn't interested in talking more.

Shuichi watches Furuya and discovers he's actually a little worried.

"Furuya-kun, do you relax with anyone?" he asks.

His arm still covering his eyes, Furuya snorts and replies derisively, "I didn't realize you were quite that stupid, Akai."

Shuichi blinks down at Furuya.

Oh.

He finds himself smiling, just a little.

"Are you free for dinner next Thursday, Furuya-kun?" he asks.

"Of course I am," says Furuya brusquely.

"I'm glad."

Furuya lets out a humph and shifts his head to face away from Shuichi.

He's not quite fast enough for Shuichi to miss the small smile on Furuya's face, though.

* * *

"Akai, give me your phone number," Furuya orders him one day.

"If you give me yours," Shuichi responds mildly.

At this point, he's finding himself more and more unphased at Furuya's occasional shifts into brusque tones or haughty attitudes.

It's just become so blindingly obvious when Furuya's using harsh words as a mask to hide other emotions, softer ones, that it's harder for Shuichi to bring himself to be annoyed at his tone.

"Of course I will," replies Furuya scathingly, and Shuichi smiles.

* * *

If this were a love comedy, maybe Shuichi would have some shocking moment of realization. But it isn't, and Shuichi's never been the type for that.

He's fairly certain that he wasn't in love yet during that conversation on the train, nor in the days following. But he was close enough, really, so did the exact moment really matter?

Maybe he even fell a little in love from the moment he saw Furuya let out a relaxed laugh around him.

Probably not, but maybe.

The point was that there may have been no shocking moment of realization, but that didn't make his feelings any less true.

And at some point, he got sick of holding them back. And so he confessed.

That was really all there was to it.

* * *

Since he let the cat out of the bag, Shuichi decides he might as well double down on it.

So on that day they always meet for dinner, he buys a dozen red roses before knocking on the door to Furuya's apartment.

Furuya opens the door with a disgruntled expression. It immediately morphs into horror on spotting the roses Shuichi holds in his hands.

"You..." Furuya starts, voice a little faint. He glances left and right down the apartment hallway before yanking Shuichi forwards by his arm. He hisses, "Get in here before someone sees!"

Furuya's reaction is as amusing as he thought it would be. Shuichi obediently follows Furuya into his apartment and even softly shuts the door behind him.

As soon as the door shuts, the roses are unceremoniously snatched from his hands.

He blinks in surprise only to see Furuya already halfway down the hallway, walking briskly. Furuya disappears into a room - the kitchen, if he recalls correctly - and so Shuichi follows.

When he enters the kitchen, the bouquet has been placed carefully on the kitchen table and Furuya is looking through his cupboards.

Shuichi stares, not leaving the doorway.

(In the back of his mind, he notes an excellent smell wafting through the kitchen, but one he can't quite place. He vaguely wonders what Furuya had made today.)

"I absolutely cannot believe you, Akai," Furuya snaps, his back facing Shuichi. He opens another cupboard and grabs a simple glass vase before heading to the sink. "Who in their _right mind_ " - Furuya turns on the faucet and fills the vase with water - "would bring a bouquet of red roses to their male colleague, in the middle of January!?"

Furuya goes to slam the vase down in middle of the kitchen table - Shuichi's impressed it doesn't break from the force. He then carefully unties the sky blue ribbon keeping the bouquet together and plops the roses into his vase.

Finally, he turns back towards Shuichi and snaps, "Well!?"

Shuichi holds back a smile and says, "I never said the roses were for you, you know."

He sees a slight flush to Furuya's cheeks before it's doubtlessly forced back down. Furuya hisses, "Then who are they for?"

"I'm just joking." Shuichi gives Furuya a faint smile, and Furuya looks a little uneasy. He continues fondly, "Of course they're for you."

Furuya eyes him uncomfortably and asks, rather irritably, "Can you stop looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" asks Shuichi in return.

"Like..." Furuya waves a hand around vaguely and snaps, "You know perfectly well, Akai."

Shuichi's smile softens a touch more as he says, "I think it's natural for me to look at you as if I like you when I like you, Furuya-kun."

Furuya scowls. "I don't understand why you insist on claiming that."

"Because it's true," Shuichi says drily. He finally takes a step into the kitchen and walks to the kitchen table, stopping only an arms-length away from Furuya.

He examines the vase and smiles.

"Don't get the wrong idea, Akai," says Furuya sharply, "The flowers were looking terrible, probably because it's freezing outside. I don't care about how much money you wasted, but it would be insulting to the people who grew them to let them wilt so easily."

"Right," Shuichi says in amusement.

"If flowers were returnable I'd get you to return them," Furuya mutters, and Shuichi wonders what happened to not caring about how much money he wasted. Furuya reluctantly continues, "I do appreciate the gift, if not the questionable sentiment behind it. Thank you."

"The sentiment isn't questionable, Furuya-kun," – Furuya rolls his eyes and Shuichi holds back a sigh – "but I'm glad you appreciate it."

Furuya clicks his tongue before reaching down to pick up the ribbon discarded on the table. "Honestly Akai, what were you even hoping to do? This ribbon doesn't even match the flowers - I see your lack of fashion sense extends to aesthetics in general."

"I thought it suited you," Shuichi explains, letting the jab at his fashion sense slide because well, it's true that it's never been a huge priority for him.

Furuya examines the blue ribbon with some curiosity – then his eyes, blue as the ribbon, light in understanding. He lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Really? Are you trying to check off every cliché?" he demands.

"I thought being obvious was a good idea," Shuichi says, a little brightly. "After all, you didn't seem to believe me at all the other day."

"Being obvious or not is not the problem, Akai," Furuya says curtly.

"Then enlighten me on the problem."

Furuya just narrows his eyes. "I don't know what your game is, Akai Shuichi, but it's not going to work."

"I suppose I'll just try harder then," replies Shuichi easily.

Furuya barks out a laugh. "Are you even listening to me?"

"To be completely honest, Furuya-kun," Shuichi says truthfully, carefully examining Furuya's expression. "I'm more watching you."

Shuichi appreciates the flush that creeps up Furuya's face again before it's wiped away.

"Whatever, do what you like then," Furuya says, voice now cool. His face angles upwards and his eyes look down at Shuichi, cold and haughty. It's rather nostalgic, really - that's an expression Shuichi hasn't seen in a while.

Mockingly, Bour- Furuya continues, "I suppose if nothing else, it will be amusing to see you debase yourself."

"I don't consider flirting with you to be debasing myself," Shuichi corrects smoothly, and Furuya scowls.

But then Furuya just brings a hand up to his forehead and sighs. Some of the fight seems to drain from his body.

"Do you have to do this?" he mutters. There's a strangely tired look to Furuya's eyes, so Shuichi frowns.

"I don't have to, no," Shuichi says, a little gently, "But we're both adults here. I would prefer to be rejected properly than for what I said to be ignored."

\- and with Furuya, working him up through embarrassment or annoyance is the best way to get a semi-genuine response. But for some reason, Furuya doesn't seem to be biting the way Shuichi expected him to.

"Then I -" Furuya drops the hand from his forehead and grimaces. "I still don't - I - " Furuya sighs again. "Look, Akai, I'm a bit tired right now. Do we need to do this right now? Can't we just act - normally?"

Shuichi feels a spot of annoyance, because _surely_ it wasn't that difficult to give a straightforward 'yes' or a 'no'. But there's still that tiredness to Furuya's eyes and Shuichi can't quite bring himself to push the matter.

(A hopeful voice in his mind murmurs that a 'no' would be much easier for Furuya to say than a 'yes'.)

So instead he says, "Of course," and smiles a little.

For a moment, Shuichi could swear that Furuya looks _desperately_ relieved. Then he blinks, and he's just looking at a painfully bright smile.

(He'd like to think it's not completely fake.)

* * *

Another week later, Shuichi still hasn't gotten a response, positive or negative, to his confession. He wonders if Furuya will even come to their now-weekly tradition, so he's glad when that Thursday, there's a knock on his door at seven on the dot.

Shuichi opens the door with a small smile. "Furuya-kun."

"Akai," Furuya responds, a neutral expression on his face. The tired look in his eyes is gone, Shuichi is relieved to note. But if he's thinking about what Shuichi said, Shuichi can't tell.

Then Shuichi looks down and his eyes widen a little, because Furuya's holding some kind of bottle wrapped in brown paper.

"Oh, this?" Furuya lifts up the bottle and smiles. "Just some wine - consider us even for the decorative flowers you gave me last week."

"They were roses, Furuya-kun," Shuichi says drily. He steps aside from the doorway to let Furuya enter.

" _Decorative flowers_ ," Furuya insists as he enters. The door closes behind him.

Shuichi smiles and accepts the bottle from Furuya. He peels down some of the paper and peers at the label. It seems to be of average quality - nothing special, but nothing terrible either. It's the kind of perfectly acceptable gift that Shuichi would expect from Furuya.

"Why wine?" Shuichi asks, a little curious. He knows it isn't Furuya's favourite drink, and Furuya knows it isn't his either.

"There's never been an Organization operative named Wine," Furuya explains bluntly as he takes off his coat. It's hung neatly from a coat hook, more neatly than Shuichi ever hangs his jackets. "A lot of alcohol has been a bit tainted for me, to be honest."

"But I do like -"

"-Yes, I know you like bourbon, but I'm not about to gift you it," Furuya cuts in scathingly. Shuichi can't help but smile at that, and on spotting his expression, Furuya freezes for a moment. He clarifies with a cough, "I know you like the _drink_ bourbon."

"That's correct, I do like Bourbon," Shuichi says agreeably, and keeps his smile innocent when Furuya eyes him suspiciously. He continues nonchalantly, "I tried my hand at gyoza today."

"Oh?" Furuya says immediately, latching onto the new subject remarkably quickly. Shuichi holds back a chuckle.

"I'm afraid I didn't make the skins from scratch though," Shuichi admits.

"Hmph, of course you didn't," Furuya says dismissively.

"I'd appreciate it if you kept your judgement until after you try it, Furuya-kun."

"Don't be so annoyed, Akai," Furuya responds, and he's taken aback because while he might be a touch irritated, he wouldn't show it on his face so easily. Furuya smiles, a little less bright than before but a little more soft, and Shuichi's breath catches, his irritation forgotten. Furuya continues, "I'll admit you are a decent enough cook now overall - I suppose your time as Okiya wasn't for nothing."

Shuichi smiles a little and decides that prodding Furuya for an answer could wait a bit longer.

* * *

They've only just finished eating when Furuya gives him a vaguely irritated look from across the table and says, voice long-suffering, "You actually do think you like me, don't you?"

"...Yes," Shuichi replies drily. He's admittedly a little surprised that Furuya brought up the subject of his own volition, but he rolls with it.

"I was hoping that there was something else to explain your actions," Furuya explains. He glances to the side and scowls. "But based on how you've acted today and the other day, the simplest explanation is that you're telling the truth."

He _had_ thought that Furuya had been awfully contemplative during dinner. So Furuya had been analyzing him after all.

(Shuichi hasn't heard Furuya laugh in a while. It's more disconcerting than Shuichi would've expected.)

"My apologies for not deceiving you," Shuichi says blandly.

Furuya narrows his eyes. "I'm going to be blunt."

He holds back a snort. Is Furuya ever not blunt with him?

"Go on," he just says.

"You liking me is quite frankly, a huge pain," Furuya says, and ah yes, that was as blunt as Shuichi expected. The look to Furuya's eyes is decidedly unimpressed, and Shuichi can't help but sigh.

"Furuya-kun, I would appreciate it if you would just give me a straight answer," Shuichi says, a touch exasperated.

Furuya ignores him, because of course he does.

"I mean, you should understand, right, Akai?" he says instead, voice cool. "Tell me right now - what's more important to you, me or your work?"

"You?" Shuichi tries.

" _Excuse me?"_ Furuya snaps immediately. It seems he made the wrong choice. "Don't screw with me, Akai, who's going to protect our countries if people like us put our personal feelings above our duty?" He scowls and continues, "Besides, do you really think I can't see through an obvious lie like that?"

Shuichi shrugs, because it's true, he would admittedly consider his work more important. But still…

"It's not an either or, Furuya-kun," he says calmly, "You can care for people and also put aside your personal feelings for your work. Or are you saying that that glasses-wearing subordinate of yours isn't of any use anymore? He's gotten married recently, hasn't he?"

"Kazami is different," retorts Furuya.

"You know, I've been listening to you say things like this since last week," Shuichi says irritably, "But I haven't heard one word about what you actually feel."

"That's not relevant," replies Furuya immediately.

Shuichi raises an eyebrow. "I think it's very relevant considering the topic at hand."

"No. It's not relevant," Furuya repeats levelly. He glances to the side, face unreadable. "But if you want a straight answer, I'll give you one - I have no interest in dating you. I hope we can remain friends."

Shuichi can't help but feel a stab of disappointment. He can be an adult about this, though.

"Alright then," Shuichi says, tone neutral. "I understand. I hope we can remain friends as well."

"Good," Furuya says.

"Good," Shuichi responds.

They stare at each other for a few beats, the atmosphere stiflingly awkward. Then Shuichi opens his mouth, because perhaps he can't quite let it go so easily.

"Just one thing, Furuya-kun," he says.

Furuya sighs, sounding as if he expected the response. "What is it?"

"If feelings weren't relevant to the discussion," Shuichi begins. He narrows his eyes, "What _is?_ I didn't think you were a man so concerned with what others thought of you."

"Oh please, Akai, it's not about other people," Furuya says scathingly.

"Then _-_ "

"-Are you free tomorrow? In the afternoon?" Furuya asks, cutting in.

Shuichi stares a little, confused. "If it'll be over by the evening?"

He had been strong-armed into dinner with his mother tomorrow, so he had decided to take his break day then. He hadn't wanted to worry about work running late.

"It won't," says Furuya, voice carefully even. "So you'll be able to come, then? Great. It'll be easier to explain after showing you."

Furuya's face is coolly indifferent - Shuichi can't read him at all.

"Showing me," Shuichi echoes, still not entirely following what's going on.

Furuya nods. "Yes. I'll text you the details later."

"Alright," Shuichi says.

"Alright," Furuya responds.

They stare at each other again before finally, Furuya breaks his eye contact and sits up from the table.

"I should be going now," he says, "Thanks for the meal, Akai."

"...No problem?" says Shuichi.

The sound of Furuya walking away is awfully loud to his ears. He stares down at the wooden grain of his table and blinks.

What had just happened?

* * *

The next day, Shuichi meets Furuya right outside of a train station, as they later planned. It's a rather gloomy day - grey clouds crowd the sky and threaten to snow, or worse, rain.

He expects Furuya to be wearing one of his vast array of (what he assumes are) fashionable outfits, but he's surprised to see that Furuya's actually wearing that trim grey suit he wears at work.

Furuya will just have to forgive him for wearing his typical black button-up shirt and pants under his jacket, because he's not about to change into something more formal.

"Hey, Furuya-kun," Shuichi greets. He nods towards Furuya's attire and asks, "Is this work-related?"

"In a way," Furuya responds shortly. He gestures for Shuichi to follow him and starts walking. The expression on his face is as blank and unreadable as it had been the other day.

It makes the atmosphere feel... odd.

They're quiet on the walk to their destination, though the cars driving down the road make the trip far from peaceful. But either way, it's over quickly - no more than five minutes after they set off, Furuya stops in front of an apartment building.

It's a decidedly middle-class building. A little older, a little worn-down, but perfectly liveable. It might even be a touch nicer than the apartment building Shuichi is currently living in.

Before they enter, Furuya glances back to Shuichi. He says firmly, "I'll be doing the talking. You just keep quiet and listen, Akai."

Being ordered around annoys him, but his curiosity about what's going on wins out in the end. Shuichi just nods.

(It's not like he can't talk if he wants to, should the occasion arise.)

Furuya manages to get them buzzed in without actually talking on the interphone - which means they were expected - then they're heading up on the elevator and towards some apartment on the eighth floor.

The entire time, Furuya's expression is as carefully unreadable as ever. And so Shuichi is a little taken aback when Furuya pastes a bright smile on his face as he knocks on the apartment door.

Though he's even more surprised when it's one of those Tokyo Metropolitan detectives - Takagi if he recalls correctly - who opens the door.

Since when had Furuya known him?

"Hello, Amuro-san!" Takagi says, and ah, from that name it's clear that they _don't_ know each other. After greeting Furuya enthusiastically enough, Takagi eyes Shuichi with no little confusion.

"Oh, he's a colleague of mine," Furuya explains, smile brilliant on his face. "I'm sorry for bringing him here, but this should just be a quick meeting and we do have some work to do after this."

Lies fall from Furuya's lips as easily as ever, he notes.

(It makes him relieved that he barely ever sees that so obviously fake smile when Furuya's around him.

Even if it means that at times, Furuya won't smile at all.)

"I see... I don't mind, but..." Takagi frowns and peers at Shuichi curiously. "Have we met before? I'm Takagi, Takagi Wataru."

"I'm Akai Shuichi," Shuichi introduces himself politely enough. "I don't think we've met before."

...As Akai Shuichi. At least as far as he remembers.

"Maybe it's just my imagination then." Takagi laughs, sounding a little embarrassed. "Anyways, come in!"

* * *

They settle into the living room easily enough, Takagi sitting on a sofa across from the two of them. Shuichi notices a small cardboard box placed on a cushion next to Takagi. It's conspicuously open in the otherwise tidy room, and so Shuichi eyes it curiously. He doesn't have to wonder for long.

"I was really surprised to hear that you knew Date-san," comments Takagi, reaching for the box next to him. He takes out what's clearly a photo album, black-leathered and a little battered at the edges, and flips through it. "I'm sorry though, I've looked through both of the albums his parents sent me the other day, but I didn't see any pictures of you."

"The first album, the one you're holding. Could you flip to the first page?" Furuya asks.

Takagi blinks, looking confused. Regardless though, he flips to the first page and holds the album up for them to see. "Is this good?"

There's two photos per page, so there's four photos in total being shown to them. None of them stand out to him - though they all feature an older man with stubble Shuichi presumes is Date.

Furuya chuckles, the sound a touch sad.

"Takagi-san, could you check behind the first photo?" Furuya asks quietly. "The landscape one of Date standing on the mountain. By the valley."

Ah. Shuichi understands now. The first - or rather, the zeroth picture. Rei. A picture of a valley. Furuya.

Rather obvious if you knew what you were looking for. Rather _dangerous,_ too, for a former spy like Furuya.

Takagi brings the album back down to his lap and checks behind the first photo. His eyes widen as he pulls out a photo hidden behind the first.

"It's - it's you and Date-san," Takagi says haltingly, staring down at the photo in disbelief. Shuichi leans forwards to try to see it, but it doesn't seem to be possible from this angle.

"Could I see it?" asks Furuya politely.

"Oh yes, of course!" Takagi says quickly. He lets out an embarrassed laugh and stretches out a hand to hand Furuya the photo. Shuichi leans in a little to examine it after Furuya accepts it.

It's a photo of Furuya and Date, both in police academy uniforms, on a rooftop somewhere. Their arms are wrapped around each other's shoulders and they're both grinning widely - they seem quite happy. Furuya is even making a peace sign.

Some parts of Shuichi are fascinated with the photo, fascinated with the tiny glimpse into Furuya's past, but most of him is just thinking - this photo could've been quite damning to Bourbon.

"You were in the police academy, Amuro-san?" Takagi asks, cutting into Shuichi's thoughts. From the look to his face, it's obvious that he was unable to hold back his curiosity any longer.

"That's correct," Furuya says. He neatly places the photo facedown on the coffee table in front of them and smiles.

"If you don't mind me asking -" Takagi starts hesitantly. "- what made you decide not to join the police?"

Shuichi holds back a snort.

"I don't mind you asking," Furuya says smoothly. "I intended to tell you today, after all. Either way, you would've found out tomorrow."

Furuya reaches a hand into an inner pocket of his suit and takes out a black badge book. He holds it up in front of him and lets it fall open.

Moments later, Takagi's mouth falls open in a similar way.

"Inspector!?" Takagi exclaims incredulously, leaning in to examine the identification more closely. His eyes widen further the longer he stares at it. It's rather clear that Takagi is at a loss on what to comment on first.

Furuya snaps the badge book shut and slips it back into his pocket. Takagi jolts, looking as though he was shaken out of a stupor.

"My apologies for the deception," Furuya says calmly. "I was on a long-term infiltration mission - though I'm sure you understand I can't explain the details. The meeting you have tomorrow with us is partly to clear the air about, well," Furuya gestures down at himself and smiles again. "This. We do want to keep a good working relationship with the normal police, and I thought keeping a secret like this when it's no longer necessary might strain that relationship."

"I - I see," Takagi says, still sounding rattled. "Thank you for telling me, Amu- Furu- Inspector-"

"Furuya-san is fine, Takagi-san," Furuya says, and the voice has a tinge of amusement to it.

But when Shuichi glances to the side, there's a cold edge to Furuya's smile and a blank look to his eyes. So Shuichi's mild amusement at the police officer's shock immediately fades away.

No matter how Furuya looks or what he says - something is still clearly wrong.

* * *

Furuya manages to convince Takagi to let him keep the photo, and so when they leave Furuya has a new photo slipped between the pages of his handbook. But Shuichi still has a lot of questions when they leave. To be honest, he has _more_ questions.

So when Furuya asks if he'd like to take a more scenic route back to the station, the answer is an immediate yes.

(Though granted, the answer would've been an immediate yes no matter what.)

It is a bit chilly outside though - while they had been talking with Takagi inside the apartment building, snow had begun to fall softly from the sky.

They're taking a quiet route this time - few pedestrians pass by, and even fewer cars. It even feels a little comfortable, walking in silence in the snow with Furuya. But there's more important things on Shuichi's mind at the moment than enjoying a walk.

"It's been a year and a half since the Organization fell," Shuichi notes, "You didn't actually want the regular police to know who you were, did you?"

"Of course not," Furuya says, tone amused. "I prefer not to mix my identities. But there's an incident we need to discuss together, and orders are orders."

"I see," Shuichi says non-committedly. He glances towards Furuya and comments, "You know, I'm surprised that photo you got today still existed."

That strangely blank look to Furuya's face breaks for a moment as Furuya smiles, just a bit. "Date wasn't stupid, but he did have his sentimental side. He probably guessed that I was infiltrating somewhere and got rid of most of the photos - except for one."

"You were close to him?"

"Yeah," Furuya says quietly, and the smile's gone. "Him and Matsuda and- Scotch. We got on pretty well in the Academy." Smugly, he continues, "He didn't even hold it against me that he was always ranked two."

"I was top-ranking during FBI training as well," Shuichi says mildly, because it wouldn't do to let Furuya get too big of a head.

(And because if Furuya got annoyed at him for the boasting, at least his strange expression would disappear.)

"Yes yes, of course you were," Furuya says, waving a hand dismissively.

In moments that odd, unreadable expression had settled itself back down on Furuya's face, and Shuichi frowns.

"Why didn't you go looking for photos earlier?" Shuichi asks before Furuya has a chance to take even a single step forwards. He doesn't want to give the silence a chance to sneak back in.

"The photo albums always belonged to Date's parents, and I didn't know them," came the simple reply. Furuya shrugs and smiles. "Luckily, they decided recently that Takagi-san could have a couple of the albums. They've had them for years and moved them all to digital lately, after all."

"...How convenient," Shuichi says, eyeing Furuya a little suspiciously.

"Very," says Furuya agreeably. There's nothing on Furuya's face that suggests any guilt, but Shuichi still suspects he did something.

But he's got nothing to back up that feeling except intuition, so there's not much point in pressing further when he doesn't care too much about it.

So Shuichi just changes the subject.

"Furuya-kun," he says, "Why did you bring me with you today?"

Furuya's quiet for longer than Shuichi would expect. The snow falls silently around them as they walk.

But eventually, finally, Furuya says in a vaguely mocking tone, "You can't tell?"

"No," replies Shuichi bluntly.

Furuya scoffs. He looks up at the grey sky and says inanely, "You know, Date had a girlfriend."

"Alright?"

"He was going to propose to her the day he died," Furuya continues, his voice bitter. "Tragic, isn't it?"

"Of course," Shuichi responds. But he's still not quite sure what Furuya is trying to get at.

"But he didn't just have a girlfriend," says Furuya coolly. "He had parents, who still mourn him today. People like Detective Takagi, who looked up to him. Friends, in the police."

"That's true for most people, Furuya-kun," Shuichi says. He narrows his eyes. "Even for you."

"I suppose in a way." Furuya shrugs. "But that's not what I'm trying to say."

Shuichi sighs, finally loses some of his patience, and demands, "Then what are you trying to say?"

"What I'm trying to say is… that is…" Furuya hums, trailing off. He suddenly stops in the middle of the sidewalk and Shuichi almost walks right into him.

Not turning around to face him, Furuya says brightly, "People like us should stay focused on work, don't you think?"

Shuichi frowns at the back of Furuya's head and says, "I'm sorry, but I'm still not seeing what that has to do with your friend."

Furuya sighs deeply and says, sounding almost bored, "Let me rephrase then."

He finally turns to look at Shuichi, and words catch in his throat on meeting Furuya's eyes. They were cold, so cold, and so utterly blank, as if they weren't seeing a thing.

A cool smile twists up Furuya's lips and all Shuichi can do is stare.

"Tell me, Akai," Furuya breathes. In a single swift move, Furuya steps wretchedly close to Shuichi. A hand closes over his left shoulder in a tight grip. Furuya angles his head over the other shoulder and whispers in his ear,

"Tell me. When good people like Date die left and right-"

The grip on his shoulder tightens painfully. Shuichi swallows.

"-why should people like us be happy?"

* * *

Why, indeed.

Shuichi doesn't know what to tell Furuya.

Shuichi doesn't know if Furuya is _wrong._

What was he supposed to say? It's alright that you killed innocent people, that you tortured people, that you left people for dead?

Was he supposed to say that it was justified because he did it for Japan? For the sake of the world? For the greater good?

He didn't believe that.

He did what he had to. It didn't make what he did acceptable.

So how could he tell Furuya elsewise?

* * *

Shuichi doesn't say anything, can't say anything to that cool smile and those dead eyes.

They walk the rest of the way back in silence.

* * *

He's really not in any mood to have dinner with his mother, but neither is he in the mood to get in an argument with her by cancelling.

So a couple hours later, Shuichi reluctantly heads out to the needlessly fancy restaurant that his mother had made a reservation at, still in a terrible mood.

They actually make it twenty minutes before his mother makes an irritable comment on his attitude, which Shuichi will take as a success.

"There isn't much point in meeting if you're going to be like this, now is there?" Mother snaps.

"It isn't like I could cancel," Shuichi says ill-temperedly.

"If you told me, we could've rescheduled," argues Mother, and Shuichi resists the urge to roll his eyes.

"I doubt that you would've let me."

"Well we can't know now, can we?" is Mother's tetchy response, but Shuichi is fairly certain that yes, they could know perfectly well what would've happened.

So he just lets out a short, exasperated sigh.

His mother eyes him and sighs right back. "I thought things were getting better with us - you seemed happier lately."

Shuichi freezes, eyes widening.

"I… seemed happier?" he repeats slowly.

Mother frowns at him and says, voice a touch confused, "Yes?"

"...You're right, Mother, I _was_ happier lately," Shuichi says contemplatively.

Mother says something else, but it's drowned out by his thoughts and her words fade into the background.

That was right.

He had already _been_ happy, spending time with Furuya. He wanted something more, sure, but that didn't make the talks he had with Furuya any less fun. It didn't make the debates they had any less interesting.

Maybe Furuya was correct, maybe they didn't have the right to be happy.

But even if that was the case, it was already too late.

Besides, it wasn't as if punishing themselves by not allowing any smidgen of happiness to leak in would improve their work performance. It would probably be more the opposite, really.

Furuya's whole demeanour had thrown him for a loop, thrown his thoughts into disarray, but the answer was really that simple, wasn't it?

They had already _been_ happy.

* * *

Work the next day takes much too long to finish up - by the time he can escape, he's dead tired and isn't in any mood to confront Furuya. But the day after that, he's able to leave early enough that Shuichi feels ready.

So after work, Shuichi waits outside of Furuya's door for Furuya to come home. Unfortunately, it seems it's Furuya's turn to work late at the office. It's nine p.m. and Shuichi's just about to give up for the night when Furuya finally makes an appearance.

Furuya looks a little tired, but not overly so. Shuichi decides he looks energetic enough for this conversation.

"Furuya-kun," he greets.

Emotions race across Furuya's face, too fast for Shuichi to read, before his expression settles into sullenness. "If you have something to say, Akai, say it here. I don't want to hear it otherwise."

"As you wish," Shuichi demures, straightening back up from where he had been leaning against the wall. He takes a step closer to Furuya and says, "Furuya-kun."

"Yes, that is my name," replies Furuya derisively.

"I've thought more about what you said the other day."

"Oh? And?" Furuya says, crossing his arms.

"I've come to a few conclusions," Shuichi says. He holds up a single finger with a hand. "First of all - you said people 'like us' shouldn't be happy, but Furuya-kun" - Shuichi smiles - "I don't know about you, but I was already happy."

Furuya looks frozen in place, but Shuichi forages forwards regardless.

Shuichi continues, "You don't need something romantic to be happy. Spending time with you as a friend who actually knew me - that in itself was enjoyable. You seem to want things to go back to the way they were before I confessed, but wouldn't that still mean 'being happy'?"

Furuya is silent for a few moments before he wets his lips and chokes out, voice wretched, "Why did you have to _say_ that?"

Shuichi blinks, mouth half-opening - he hadn't quite expected that reaction. "I-"

"-We can't even be friends now," Furuya mutters, running a hand through his hair. He lets out a sour laugh. " _Dammit._ "

Shuichi holds back a desperate urge to reach out, to try to comfort Furuya, because judging from the way Furuya is acting, his hand would just be slapped away. And then Furuya might just run away into his apartment, and who knows when Furuya would give him the time of day again?

Instead, he just holds up a second finger and says, "The second conclusion I reached was your reasoning didn't make much sense."

Kindness would do nothing here. He was going to have to be blunt.

"What?" asks Furuya, sounding irritated.

"I don't believe you'll do any better at work by making yourself miserable," Shuichi says coolly, "Forcing yourself away from any 'happiness' does nothing but give you a twisted sense of self-satisfaction. It's meaningless."

Perhaps Furuya's not the only one being affected by emotion at the moment, because Shuichi doesn't see the punch coming until it's too late to dodge it. By the time he recovers from the punch, Furuya has disappeared and the door to his apartment is slamming shut.

Shuichi stares at the closed door and thinks that he may have royally screwed things up.

* * *

He doesn't go to Furuya's apartment the next week.

* * *

Furuya doesn't come to his apartment the week after that.

* * *

Shuichi throws himself into work perhaps a little too aggressively on the Thursday after that. When he finally heads back to his apartment, it's past two in the morning.

When he steps out of the elevator in his apartment corridor, he spots someone with blond hair sitting down next to his apartment door, face buried in their knees. His eyes widen - he half-runs towards his door.

"Furuya-kun?" Shuichi says, disbelieving.

In a languorous motion, Furuya looks up at Shuichi with tired eyes and lets out a yawn. "Oh, Akai - you're finally here. What time is it?"

"Past two," Shuichi tells him, then asks, "How long have you been here?"

"Oh, not long." Furuya grins brightly enough, but there's a strained edge to it. He gets up slowly, leaning against the wall with a hand. "Just since nine or so."

"You-" Shuichi sighs, bringing a hand up to his forehead. "Why would you wait so long? _I_ wouldn't have waited that long."

He swallows as he stares at Furuya and wonders if it's alright to hope, just a little.

"Even I can fall prey to the sunk-cost fallacy, Akai," says Furuya primly, then breaks off into another yawn. "Besides, I have a day off work tomorrow anyways. You do too, right?"

Shuichi has to hold back a yawn himself. Some part of him, the part that's tired and just doesn't want to deal with this anymore, tells him to tell Furuya to come back another day. The better part of him decides to go unlock the door.

"Just come in, Furuya-kun," he says.

Furuya smiles at him. "Thank you."

He ends up crashing on Shuichi's couch for the night.

* * *

Surprisingly enough, Shuichi ends up waking before Furuya the next morning. When he walks out into his living room, Furuya is still conked out on the sofa.

Furuya's mouth is half-open, letting out soft snores. He's snuggled against a small couch pillow, stray strands of hair hiding his eyes and dress shirt half-open - his suit jacket is strewn somewhere on the floor. As he stares, Shuichi thinks Furuya's being utterly unfair and downright rude.

(How is he supposed to forget about Furuya when-)

Shuichi forces himself away and heads into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. After deliberating for a moment, he makes a cup for Furuya as well before walking back into the living room.

He places the cup of coffee on the tea table in front of the sofa - as close to Furuya's face as possible - then settles himself down on a lounge chair at the head of the table.

Shuichi sips at his coffee and waits for Furuya to wake.

He doesn't have to wait too long.

"Hnngh," Furuya groans, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes. He struggles himself into something resembling a sitting position and looks at Shuichi through half-lidded eyes. "Where… Akai…" Furuya rubs at his eyes again then mumbles, "Oh, right."

"Yes, right," says Shuichi shortly. He takes another sip of his coffee before commenting casually, "There's a cup for you on the table."

A hand immediately shoots out to grip the mug and raise it to Furuya's mouth. In moments, Furuya's gulped down the whole thing. Shuichi blinks at him, vaguely horrified, vaguely impressed. It was good that the coffee had time to cool down a little.

The cup is placed back onto the table with a sharp clack.

"Thank you, Akai," Furuya says politely, suddenly sounding remarkably put together. That being said, he still looks like he just got out of bed - the bed hair in particular is rather terrible.

Shuichi holds back a laugh despite himself and says, half-amused, "You're welcome."

"I should," Furuya begins, glancing to the side. "I should tell you why I came here now, shouldn't I?"

Yes, he really should.

"It can wait until you wash your face," Shuichi finds himself saying, and wants to slap himself.

Thankfully, Furuya doesn't accept his kindness.

"No, you deserve to hear it now," Furuya says, shaking his head. He crosses his arms and sighs. "I tried to do nothing but work these past three weeks."

"Is that new?" Shuichi asks drily.

" _Yes_ , it's new," Furuya snaps, flashing a scowl at him. He clears his throat. "Or well, even I try to take breaks sometimes, try to not stay in until midnight every day. But I didn't."

"And?"

"It was terrible," Furuya mutters.

"I could've told you that," Shuichi says flatly.

"No, I mean - my work was terrible." Furuya uncrosses his arms to wave a hand dismissively. "Feeling terrible wouldn't matter, but my _work_ was terrible by the end. Despite my best efforts, I was basically useless."

"Yes. I could've told you that," Shuichi repeats, just as flatly.

Furuya narrows his eyes and snaps, "Can you just listen to me?"

Shuichi raises a hand in a placating gesture and smiles.

Furuya's eyes remain narrowed, but nonetheless, he continues, "I was a lot more productive when I had dinner with you to look forwards to every week."

"...I'm glad I could help you be a better worker?" Shuichi offers.

"That's not it, I-" Furuya cuts himself off and sighs. He runs a hand through his hair and says, "I suppose I can't blame you for reacting like that after everything. Look, the reason why I threw myself into work was that I didn't want to believe you."

"Oh?"

"You said that I just was punishing myself for my own self-satisfaction," Furuya bites out, looking downwards. "That there was no point - and - and I didn't want to believe you. Couldn't believe you, but" - Furuya lets out a self-deprecating laugh - "you were right, weren't you. Being unhappy doesn't make me more useful to the country. It was the opposite."

Furuya lets out another laugh, this time a little more hysterical, and Shuichi is beginning to find it a little hard to stay aloof when there's an expression like that on the face of the person he loves.

Shuichi swallows, carefully placing his cup of coffee onto the table. "Furuya-kun -"

"-No, just listen, please," Furuya interrupts, holding up a hand for him to stop. So Shuichi stops, though a little hesitantly, and Furuya continues, "Listen, Akai, I..."

He looks at Shuichi, and Shuichi can do nothing but stare back just like that time in the snow, because the utterly heartwrenching smile on Furuya's face has stolen away his words.

Furuya's eyes soften, and he says, voice quiet, "I like you, you know. I really like you."

Shuichi's hands clench and he wonders if his heart has stopped.

"I don't even know if _you_ like me anymore. I certainly wouldn't blame you if you didn't," Furuya continues, and Shuichi has to force down the urge to reassure Furuya immediately that yes, he most certainly does, because it doesn't seem like Furuya is finished. "But either way, I'm in no state of mind for a proper relationship, and I - I don't know when I will be. If I will be. And so I know it's selfish, but I still…"

After a few moments of silence, Shuichi prompts, "You still?"

Furuya closes his eyes, looks down, and says, "I still want to be with you. To spend time with you. To just - just have stupid conversations and arguments. I know I'm being unfair-"

"-Furuya-kun," Shuichi finally cuts in.

"Akai?"

"Furuya-kun," he repeats, and smiles at Furuya, feeling stupidly happy. "I want that too, in a relationship or not. You should take the time you need to gather yourself, however long that might take. I promise I'll hold back, and I promise I'll wait." He feels his gaze soften and the words fall so easily from his lips. "I do love you, after all."

"Oh," is all Furuya has to say to that, but the slight flush and bright smile slowly spreading across Furuya's face says enough. Furuya lets out a laugh, and Shuichi can't help but laugh as well.

"Next Thursday?" Shuichi asks, a cheerful note to his voice.

Furuya grins.

"Of course."

* * *

 **A/N:  
**

 **Alternate dialogue:**

 **Shuichi: *takes a deep breath* I love-**

 **Rei: Yes, you love bourbon, I know, you love bourbon so much, bourbon is the light of your life, you love him so much - wait fuck.**

* * *

 **And if you like Amuro, you should totally come hit us up at** _ **discord . gg**_ ** _/ 73PJf9B_ (remove the spaces)**

 **I hope you enjoyed this little story! See you next fic!**


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